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Description

Aphex Twin - Stone In Focus

---

Autumn, Year 773 of the New Age
Featuring Zeytin , with mentions of Syl , Deyanira , Laveau , Spirita & Naomi
Blackwood, Widow's Hollow

---

Sometimes, you just know. Like certain birds just seem to know that it is time to spread their wings and start their big migration to a place where the temperature is more pleasant, as soon as the first leaves are turning into the colours of the setting sun. Like the rabbits, who just feel the trembling of the paws of a predator and know they are in danger, sending them deep into their safe holes. Just like that, the stag with a hide as pale as the moon on a foggy night, just knew he did not have much time left on this planet.
It had been a harsh few years for Zeytin, who’s name literally meant ‘dark’, something he obviously lacked; exterior wise only. His parents must have had a sense of humor giving him this particular name at birth, he sometimes thought with a bitter expression. Oh, how often he fantasized about having a dark coat. Dark as the sky on a clear night. Dark as the dried tree bark he used to flavour different concoctions. It would have made life a lot less miserable for him. Always being hyper alert to his surroundings, spotting any potential predator before they spotted him, was taking its toll. His heart rate often was as high as that from a fawn, and sometimes he could even feel his heart making strange leaps and skipping a beat, which made him feel nauseous and light-headed. He had not seen his reflection in years. He could not bare the sight of his own body. He was so thin he was sure his bones would rip out of his skin one day if he made a wrong move.

He did have a den, a safe small entrance between some rocks where he kept all his belongings, where he could lay back his tired body on a bed of moss after a long day of gathering herbs and meditation, but that den was long gone. After a few days of non-stop rain, the rocks were washed away by a mudstream. The whole thing collapsed as Zeytin stood outside and watched, his body shaking from the cold. Just another metaphor for his life. Since then the weak stag slept anywhere he thought he was safe. All of his belongings were washed away on that terrible rainy day.

These last few months had consisted of walking from semi-safe place to place, eating the scarce food that he could find and reflecting back on his life. He could lay down for who knows how long, grasping memories to recreate the story that was called his existence. Sometimes those memories were clear, golden, warm, and he smiled. Sometimes those memories were dark, suffocating, intense, and he could feel a tear running down his scarred face. If he closed his eyes and really focussed, he could drown in the sky-blue eyes of the first doe he had ever loved, even if it was for a very brief time only. Maybe Syl had given birth to a fawn after their short but passionate encounter, maybe that fawn even had offspring of its own. He could only dream about what that fawn would look like, what it’s name would be, if it even was alive….

Deyanira was different. Whereas Syl had a hide as pale as his, Deyanira was dark and scarred; she looked like a true Blackwood. He could remember the flickering in her eye as she spoke to him. He could remember the setting of the sun, the feeling of her tail brushing against his on that evening in autumn. Their child would be of mature age if it survived until now.

He was not too sure about the age of his third fawn, as the encounter with its mother was long ago, but not as long ago as the two other does he had spent time with before her. He could remember the strange markings on the doe’s head. As if she wore a skull.
That final rut he felt a strange need to reproduce, stronger than ever before. As if he knew that his time was near. He forgot the names of the two does he had a quick encounter with; all he knew was that they too had a coat as dark as the night. It baffled him that there could be walking souls around with his blood partially flowing in their veins. All he could hope for was that they were alive, and that they did not inherit the curse that was his pale hide.

---

Autumn, a humid and dull morning. The claws of grey banks of fog slowly curled around the leafless trees, suffocating them, making it seem as if the tops were gasping for breath in a dense sea of fog. Underneath one of them, Zeytin was laying. He had slept for a short time only, and he had trouble keeping his eyes open. But since the dense fog took away his sight, he needed to find a place less scattered with trees. Who knew what predator might have used his limited sight to sneak up on him. It was not safe for him to stay. So the thin stag gathered the little strength that he had stored in his muscled and slowly stood up. His joints were hurting from cold, old age and laying down and he could feel the thump-thump of his heartbeat inside his legs.
He leaned against the tree to gain some strength before stretching his legs and move on. As he stood there a certain smell curled into his nose. He slowly looked at his back and noticed the yellow stains of urine on his hind legs. He must have let it all go when he was asleep. It had happened a few times, but it had gotten worse in the last few months. The shame of the whole situation, the frustrating feeling of not getting to control your own body, the bitterness, the thought of yet another harsh winter, of waking up tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that, made him close his eyes and turn his head to the other side. And that was when he could feel something snap inside of him.

He needed to take care of himself one last time. He had heard Uir whispering to him in his dreams; all he wanted was to lay next to her. He needed to do this. One last time.

---

He slowly let the sensitive little hairs around his muzzle glide through the humid vegetation, looking for the different herbs that he needed for his magical tea. It had been a long time. When he found one of the few ingredients, he closed his eyes and let the scent take him on a journey to different places and times. With each ingredient, the pain in his joints were fading. He had never felt so sure about anything in his life.
After quite some time, the palehide had collected all the herbs that he needed. He prepared the earthy tea like he always did. He put the dark liquid in a big leaf he had found earlier. He was not scared. He was fully ready to take this journey beyond stars and galaxies, for the very last time. Without hesitation, he lowered his head and drank the tea. The bitter taste did not bother him, even though it made his tongue sting.

He just drank so much of the tea that it would be poisonous; the amount of liquid could have lasted a whole herd. He knew, he hoped it would be a quick and painless death. There was no turning back now. He looked up and saw dark clouds slowly gathering, as if they knew what was coming, as if they wanted to make a bridge for him to find his way back to Her. The irony made him smile. It really was a beautiful day to die.

As he could feel the first drops of the soothing autumn rain on his back, he started to feel dizzy and his vision blurred. He lay down on his side on the damp grass and patiently waited for what was coming. Quicker than anticipated he drifted in and out of consciousness, the line between reality and dreams becoming thin and vague, until his heartbeat stuttered and finally, slowing down to the point where he let out his final breath.

A sigh of relief.

---

I wanted to give my dearest character a respectful ending instead of him gathering dust and being forgotten. Through this character I learned a lot, both drawing and English wise! Even though I'm inactive for a long time and things were very rusty, it still felt good to write and draw this. I want to thank everybody who ever RP'ed with me and this pale sack of bones! <3

Description

Aphex Twin - Stone In Focus

---

Autumn, Year 773 of the New Age
Featuring Zeytin , with mentions of Syl , Deyanira , Laveau , Spirita & Naomi
Blackwood, Widow's Hollow

---

Sometimes, you just know. Like certain birds just seem to know that it is time to spread their wings and start their big migration to a place where the temperature is more pleasant, as soon as the first leaves are turning into the colours of the setting sun. Like the rabbits, who just feel the trembling of the paws of a predator and know they are in danger, sending them deep into their safe holes. Just like that, the stag with a hide as pale as the moon on a foggy night, just knew he did not have much time left on this planet.
It had been a harsh few years for Zeytin, who’s name literally meant ‘dark’, something he obviously lacked; exterior wise only. His parents must have had a sense of humor giving him this particular name at birth, he sometimes thought with a bitter expression. Oh, how often he fantasized about having a dark coat. Dark as the sky on a clear night. Dark as the dried tree bark he used to flavour different concoctions. It would have made life a lot less miserable for him. Always being hyper alert to his surroundings, spotting any potential predator before they spotted him, was taking its toll. His heart rate often was as high as that from a fawn, and sometimes he could even feel his heart making strange leaps and skipping a beat, which made him feel nauseous and light-headed. He had not seen his reflection in years. He could not bare the sight of his own body. He was so thin he was sure his bones would rip out of his skin one day if he made a wrong move.

He did have a den, a safe small entrance between some rocks where he kept all his belongings, where he could lay back his tired body on a bed of moss after a long day of gathering herbs and meditation, but that den was long gone. After a few days of non-stop rain, the rocks were washed away by a mudstream. The whole thing collapsed as Zeytin stood outside and watched, his body shaking from the cold. Just another metaphor for his life. Since then the weak stag slept anywhere he thought he was safe. All of his belongings were washed away on that terrible rainy day.

These last few months had consisted of walking from semi-safe place to place, eating the scarce food that he could find and reflecting back on his life. He could lay down for who knows how long, grasping memories to recreate the story that was called his existence. Sometimes those memories were clear, golden, warm, and he smiled. Sometimes those memories were dark, suffocating, intense, and he could feel a tear running down his scarred face. If he closed his eyes and really focussed, he could drown in the sky-blue eyes of the first doe he had ever loved, even if it was for a very brief time only. Maybe Syl had given birth to a fawn after their short but passionate encounter, maybe that fawn even had offspring of its own. He could only dream about what that fawn would look like, what it’s name would be, if it even was alive….

Deyanira was different. Whereas Syl had a hide as pale as his, Deyanira was dark and scarred; she looked like a true Blackwood. He could remember the flickering in her eye as she spoke to him. He could remember the setting of the sun, the feeling of her tail brushing against his on that evening in autumn. Their child would be of mature age if it survived until now.

He was not too sure about the age of his third fawn, as the encounter with its mother was long ago, but not as long ago as the two other does he had spent time with before her. He could remember the strange markings on the doe’s head. As if she wore a skull.
That final rut he felt a strange need to reproduce, stronger than ever before. As if he knew that his time was near. He forgot the names of the two does he had a quick encounter with; all he knew was that they too had a coat as dark as the night. It baffled him that there could be walking souls around with his blood partially flowing in their veins. All he could hope for was that they were alive, and that they did not inherit the curse that was his pale hide.

---

Autumn, a humid and dull morning. The claws of grey banks of fog slowly curled around the leafless trees, suffocating them, making it seem as if the tops were gasping for breath in a dense sea of fog. Underneath one of them, Zeytin was laying. He had slept for a short time only, and he had trouble keeping his eyes open. But since the dense fog took away his sight, he needed to find a place less scattered with trees. Who knew what predator might have used his limited sight to sneak up on him. It was not safe for him to stay. So the thin stag gathered the little strength that he had stored in his muscled and slowly stood up. His joints were hurting from cold, old age and laying down and he could feel the thump-thump of his heartbeat inside his legs.
He leaned against the tree to gain some strength before stretching his legs and move on. As he stood there a certain smell curled into his nose. He slowly looked at his back and noticed the yellow stains of urine on his hind legs. He must have let it all go when he was asleep. It had happened a few times, but it had gotten worse in the last few months. The shame of the whole situation, the frustrating feeling of not getting to control your own body, the bitterness, the thought of yet another harsh winter, of waking up tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that, made him close his eyes and turn his head to the other side. And that was when he could feel something snap inside of him.

He needed to take care of himself one last time. He had heard Uir whispering to him in his dreams; all he wanted was to lay next to her. He needed to do this. One last time.

---

He slowly let the sensitive little hairs around his muzzle glide through the humid vegetation, looking for the different herbs that he needed for his magical tea. It had been a long time. When he found one of the few ingredients, he closed his eyes and let the scent take him on a journey to different places and times. With each ingredient, the pain in his joints were fading. He had never felt so sure about anything in his life.
After quite some time, the palehide had collected all the herbs that he needed. He prepared the earthy tea like he always did. He put the dark liquid in a big leaf he had found earlier. He was not scared. He was fully ready to take this journey beyond stars and galaxies, for the very last time. Without hesitation, he lowered his head and drank the tea. The bitter taste did not bother him, even though it made his tongue sting.

He just drank so much of the tea that it would be poisonous; the amount of liquid could have lasted a whole herd. He knew, he hoped it would be a quick and painless death. There was no turning back now. He looked up and saw dark clouds slowly gathering, as if they knew what was coming, as if they wanted to make a bridge for him to find his way back to Her. The irony made him smile. It really was a beautiful day to die.

As he could feel the first drops of the soothing autumn rain on his back, he started to feel dizzy and his vision blurred. He lay down on his side on the damp grass and patiently waited for what was coming. Quicker than anticipated he drifted in and out of consciousness, the line between reality and dreams becoming thin and vague, until his heartbeat stuttered and finally, slowing down to the point where he let out his final breath.

A sigh of relief.

---

I wanted to give my dearest character a respectful ending instead of him gathering dust and being forgotten. Through this character I learned a lot, both drawing and English wise! Even though I'm inactive for a long time and things were very rusty, it still felt good to write and draw this. I want to thank everybody who ever RP'ed with me and this pale sack of bones! <3